


Bright and Cold (is no match for Blue and Warm)

by Echo



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men: Apocalypse (2016) - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cuddles, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-30
Updated: 2016-06-30
Packaged: 2018-07-19 05:04:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7346212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Echo/pseuds/Echo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Flying back from Egypt, the exhaustion finally catches up with Charles. Hank takes care of him. Angst and cuddles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bright and Cold (is no match for Blue and Warm)

Everything was too bright, or too dark, or maybe both? Flashes of light, on and off and on and off, bright and angry and every colour and far too much against the dark of their absence. And he was tired. So tired. More tired than he had felt since... Well...

"What's wrong with him?" A voice asked. It was a female voice, but Charles wasn't sure if it was spoken aloud or just in his head.

"Shock, probably. And exhaustion. He's been through a lot, he needs rest." That voice though, Charles recognized. Hank's voice normally meant that the pain was going to go away soon. That would be good.

"Charles? Can you hear me?"

Charles inhaled slowly, trying to pull together enough wits to give the question due consideration, then nodded.

In hindsight, it was a terrible move. The unpleasant flashes of light became stabbing ice knives in his skull, burning and freezing in equal measure. There was a sound, pathetic and sad, and it might have been him.

Scratch that, it was almost certainly him.

Someone lifted his hand, pressed a finger to his wrist. The pressure was okay, a distraction. If he focused hard enough on it, the lights seemed less bright.

"Hank?" He tried, keeping his voice soft so as not to attract the attention of the lights again. They didn't seem like loud noises.

"I'm here. You're safe, but you need to rest. Can you try do to that?"

"How long?"

Hank didn't answer immediately, and Charles sensed confusion at the question, but bless the man, Hank didn't ask any more questions. He just settled down close enough for Charles to feel his radiant heat, and started answering.

"We're probably another seven hours from New York. Add another hour or so to that to get back to Westchester. We took off four and a half hours ago. You were taken fifty three hours ago. I'm pretty sure you haven't actually slept in that time, so you need to sleep for as many hours as you can. I'll stay with you, you'll be safe, I promise."

Charles considered this information as best as he could. There were lots of numbers, and most of them seemed quite large. The idea of sleep sounded appealing, except...

"Cold." He explained.

"You're? Oh, of course. I'll try and find you another blanket. Just a moment, I can..."

Charles made another sound of dissatisfaction, twisting his hand in Hank's grip so that he could hold on.

"No, that's not... I mean, my head."

"Your head is cold?" Hank asked, and it wasn't quite what Charles had meant either, he was trying to explain the lights and the ice in his skull, but it was close. Close enough.

"We don't really have anything for... Hmm. Okay, I have an idea, let's try this."

Charles felt himself being rearranged, but the hands were familiar and experienced. Hank had been carrying him, turning him, helping him in and out of places and positions for a significant portion of both of their lives by this point, so even though the movement seemed to anger the sharp lights, Charles kept himself quiet. Hank always had a good reason.

And then, all of a sudden, that reason became clear. Charles hadn't even realized how cold and hard the floor had been against his back until it was replaced by the warm, soft, cottony fur of Hank's chest. The lights still flickered and flashed, but now instead of covering the whole spectrum of colours, they were all glowing a muted blue. Charles curled in further, trying to maximize the contact, to get rid of the whole body chill he had only just discovered he was suffering from.

"Close your eyes." Hank instructed.

Charles obliged, and the lights faded to almost an echo. A warm and impossibly large hand covered his eyelids, guiding him to lean back into Hank's neck. A soft cheek pressed against the top of his head. The lights stopped completely.

And then he was asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> I have been seriously suffering for a lack of Hank/Charles stories. Come on, fandom, they lived together, the only two adults in the house, for decades. Why so little fic, world, _why_?
> 
> So I'm accepting prompts/requests, in an attempt to remind people of their adorableness. Prompts will, naturally need to be about Hank and Charles. I don't write explicit sex (trust me, I write it really badly, you don't want to read that) and I'm pretty weak at writing action (but I'll give it a shot if required). Friendship fic is good, so is romance, fluff, angst (I'm super cool with angst!), anything like that. Also, they should be in the First Class-verse. I don't mind reading high school/coffee shop/period/pirate AUs, but I don't like writing them.
> 
> Leave me a comment with a prompt that fits those rules, and I'll give it a go. :)


End file.
